


Sparked

by JayEz



Series: Husbands in Crime (Coldwave Week 2016) [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Coldwaveweek2016, First Meetings, M/M, POV Leonard Snart, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayEz/pseuds/JayEz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len never believed all that crap about one’s life flashing before your eyes when you’re dying. Sounds too sentimental to his ears, too neat. Life isn’t neat. </p><p>Life isn’t fair either, or else he wouldn’t be here right now. He wouldn’t have stolen because, in a just world, Lisa would’ve been safe and clothed and spoilt. She deserves the best of this world, and Len keeps failing to give it to her. </p><p>[Coldwave Week, Day 1: In Captivity]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparked

**Author's Note:**

> Usually I only hear about these things once they’re over, so I was thrilled to stumble over [Coldwave Week](http://coldwaveweek.tumblr.com/post/140262351896/coldwave-week-2016-prompts-schedule-welcome-to) in advance! Plus, it’s a great way to warm up for writing the sequel to [Education](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5072257/chapters/11664067), my Coldflash fic. 
> 
> Besides, it’s my birthday this week, so I figured my present to myself this year would be indulging my Coldwave feelings =)

Len never believed all that crap about one’s life flashing before your eyes when you’re dying. Sounds too sentimental to his ears, too neat. Life isn’t neat. 

Life isn’t fair either, or else he wouldn’t be here right now. He wouldn’t have stolen because, in a just world, Lisa would’ve been safe and clothed and spoilt. She deserves the best of this world, and Len keeps failing to give it to her. 

Another kick to his chest rattles his ribs. The cut on his arm, jostled by the movement, throbs with pain. His vision is fraying at the edges. 

Then - someone growls. 

Len’s ears are ringing, so making out the words is impossible. His attackers, though, they heard. The kicks cease and from what little Len can see through the fog of hurt and blood shrouding his eyes, the kids cower in front of another boy who’s towering over them in the dark hallway. 

It’s the last thing Len registers before unconsciousness claims him. 

*

Once the worst of it clears, Len’s able to pick apart his memories while he’s lying on the hospital bed and enjoying the reprieve from barren cells and the mind-numbing company of his fellow inmates.

Thing is, Len recognized the guy. Everyone recognizes Rory, even a kid on his first day - it’s a basic survival skill. 

Word is Rory set his family’s farm on fire. He definitely gave another boy who crossed him third degree burns in here. Ever since then everyone knows to give him a wide berth. 

And now Len owes him. 

Maybe the most useful lesson his father’s taught him so far is that favors are a powerful thing. Acknowledging that is smart; ignoring that just downright stupid. 

Which translates to Len, on his first day back in gen pop, squaring his shoulders and seeking out his unlikely savor. 

“Been waiting for you,” comes the gruff greeting. 

“Well,” Len says. “Here I am.”

He doesn’t say thank you. Actions are what matter in here. 

Rory fixes him with a long look. Len forces himself to meet his gaze unwaveringly, to stand his ground, show he’s not afraid even though his heart’s beating a staccato against his throat as he’s faced with the tall teenager. Where Len is scrawny, Rory is already a wall of brute strength, honed by hours of exercise inside these walls, probably to stave off whatever thoughts haunt the intimidating likes of him. 

“You’re smart,” Rory says. 

Len feels his brow furrow. “I certainly like to think so.”

The snark makes the boy laugh. “Good. Need you to get something back for me.”

“And what would that be?”

At that, Rory’s expression darkens. Len’s just glad the anger isn’t directed at him. 

“My lighter. Warden took it a couple o’ days ago.”

“Confiscated, you mean.”

It slips out before Len can control his tongue – but isn’t that what got him here in the first place? 

“I don’t give a fuck how you’re callin’ it,” Rory growls, and for a moment Len fears the boy’s going to stand up and do something that’s more showing than telling. “I need it back. You’re gonna get it for me.”

“And then we’re even?” Len probes. 

He watches every minute twitch of Rory’s muscles underneath the prison garb, poised to run if need be. He’s not too proud to discount the option of a strategical retreat. 

Rory just nods. No details, no deadline, nothing. 

No wonder the kid got himself caught. 

Obviously, Len doesn’t say that out loud. 

*

He starts casing the warden’s office right away. It won’t be too hard, but one mistake could add another few months to his own sentence, and he’s worried sick about Lisa all alone at home with Lewis enough as it is. 

He calls in a favor of his own for a diversion, slips inside the office holding all confiscated items and starts looking. In his mind, a clock is ticking down, and the lower the number becomes the faster his pulse beats until the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body makes the most exquisite high. 

Len nicks the lighter and a few other choice items, which he stashes behind the loose tile in the most disgusting stall of the most remote bathroom before strengthening his alibi in case the warden’s going to ask questions. 

Rory can usually be found near a radiator – the last place Len would ever choose to spend his time. He prefers the calming brisk winds of the grounds. If he closes his eyes it’s almost like he’s back in the ice cream truck. 

Swallowing down the unease rising in his chest, Len sits down next to the older boy. Rory saw him approach, so he’s not startled, but he twitches when Len retrieves the lighter from his pockets. 

“We’re even.” 

Rory barely has the presence of mind to nod, it seems, for his eyes are transfixed by the small, silver rectangle. 

Len watches in fascination as the boy flips it open with a flick of his wrist. The movement looks like it’s been burnt into his muscles, never to be forgotten. The flame shines bright in the twilight of dusk that makes it past the bars separating them from the outside world. 

That evening isn’t what forged them into the team they would become, evolving from partners in crime to partners in life like a brilliant phoenix from the ashes. 

And yet Len likes to remember that moment, because it’s what sparked it all.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued as a fix-it to ‘Marooned’ on Day 5 “Monster/Magic/Meta”.
> 
> This, as well as all future parts, is unbeta’d. I’d be happy for a volunteer to weed out any remaining mistakes? This is [my tumblr](http://multifandom-madnesss.tumblr.com/), and my [Coldwaveweek tag](http://multifandom-madnesss.tumblr.com/tagged/coldwaveweek2016). 
> 
> Also, I live off air and feedback, so let me know what you thought of my Coldwave debut =)


End file.
